Iceman –
But No Ice!

It is with great sadness that I have to report that both
Binbag and Mafia passed away recently. We shall not forget them.
Every Hasher has a unique personality and these two ladies certainly
had theirs, enyoying the fun and laughter we have Hashing and
providing their own contributions to our group. Let’s be happy
that they were, and will remain, part of BH3. Our thoughts
go out to their relatives and friends, especially Nutcracker and
Potty.

Before
I get into today’s Hash I must briefly mention the Christmas
Day Hash and the New Year’s Day Hash. The former was hosted
superbly by Anorak and Trainspotter in their cosy railside cottage
and we had a delightful run (after we had worn off the effects of the
prelube port) followed by an excellent barbeque. New Year’s day
was at the Calleva Arms. Freezing bloody cold it was. And hungover
some of us were. But the pub had no less than six Sides of Morris
Men, hot chocolate and mulled wine and Glittertits and Pissquick had
become grandparents at 3 o’clock that very morning! Speaking of
Glittertits I really must mention his (failed) attempt to cross a
glacial stream. Spying a lone tree that was leaning towards him he
took a mighty step and placed one foot on the small root that stood
out of the water, leaving the other on the bank. We gathered to
watch while he gathered himself to place the left-behind foot next to
its brother. This necessitated him grabbing the tree in a bear hug
while leaning backwards. Our interest quickened. Eyes began to widen
at the delicious prospect. He didn’t disappoint. The tree had
woody ivy stems climbing up it and he had grasped them desperately
for support. The ivy took umbrage at GT’s unsolicited groping
and parted. Almost in slow motion, it seemed, the GT body slid
backwards into the icy depths initiating our excited band into a
discussion on whether he was ‘wetting the baby’s head’
or performing a (not quite so) dry run for the baptism. Whichever it
was we had never seen our RA move so quickly. One minute total
immersion, the next, eye-popping, gasping exposure on the bank like a
giant ginger fish. I am sorry to say we all laughed like drains but
it certainly cleared my hangover – and GT’s too!

The
weather on Sunday proved a treat for us all. After Saturday’s
abysmal sub-zero temperatures, ice, hoar frost and occasional driving
snow the day was bright and clear and nowhere near as damn cold. I
felt deeply for the Bashers on Saturday. Particularly since their
Trail was quite close to my house. In the morning I pulled the warm,
snuggly duvet tightly round me and quaffed deeply on my steaming mug
of hot tea while thinking about them. And I thought, snuggled and
quaffed even more when I realised that the Moonlight Hash was to be
held on Saturday night – and I was unable to attend either. Ho
hum. My loss.☺

This Hash
saw the return of Paella, who we have not seen for far too long, and
quite a mass of Hashers who were determined to make the most of this
sunny Sunday. We were in for a treat. Not only was the Trail not too
long (Iceman was a bit under the weather) but the pub was friendly
and welcoming and provided masses of onion bhajees, somosas, chicken
nuggets, cheese bits and biscuits all for just 50p which went into a
draw won by Little Stiffy. Though the Trail involved some rather
long, fast runs there were enough Checks and False Trails to confuse
the FRBs and short cuts to let the more leisurely Hashers catch up.
Apparently, the Trail ran over some areas where there is or used to
be a running race. Or so I heard from Nappyrash and Desperate who
were maundering on about ‘when we use to race in our younger
days’. Apparently, the spur for the faster racers was the
sandwiches and cakes provided at the end. The winners got to scoff
more. I can certainly see that both of them used to do rather well…

OldFart
and Fiddler seemed to do particularly well today, with Itsyor
thoroughly enjoying his trot through the tussocks. Though, due to the
extensive False Trails they often found themselves at the back of the
Pack. His Eminence Slowsucker seems also to have sipped from the
fountain of youth recently since he was powering along the trails
like a carthorse on steroids. However, I think Cerberus and I got the
luckiest break of the day. Finding ourselves beneath a bridge,
decorated with lovingly applied graffitti we (rather stupidly, we
thought) nipped up the concrete steps and on to a dual carriageway
filled with roaring cars driven by motorists who looked like they
were straight out of Mad magazine. “Surely it can’t go
this way.” We thought, as the rest of the Pack searched around
in the green serenity below us. But our grimaces of concern were
replaced by grins of delight as we found the fourth blob and turned
into some more concrete steps leading down from deathrace 2009 and,
blow me down if it wasn’t Motox sitting on the fourth step with
one shoe off, scratching a scaly ankle in a contemplative kind of
way. Actually, it wasn’t. It was an old tramp who had just come
down to get out of the wind. We offered him a cheery ‘Hello’
to which I am happy to report he replied, with a somewhat dentally
challenged grin. But at least he responded positively, so nice one
and we wish you well matey. When we got below the bridge who should
be lurking there but Donut, Swallow and Iceman! How’d dey do
dat?

The rest
of the Trail was a rapid run through snickets, cuts, alleys, fields,
by viaducts and allotments and finally a shortish bit of tarmac with
the Pack more or less all together and gasping for a beer. Well done
to our Hares for laying a really enjoyable Trail and laying on an
even more enjoyable pub! Well done chaps.

p.s. Billy
Bullshit has a bad back at the moment and is like a bear with a sore
head so do feel free to take the p**s out of him as much as you like.